THREE OH NINE
by SANDEFUR
Summary: A much too long next episode in the imaginary third season. Sequel to #308.


THREE OH NINE

by SANDEFUR

Late at night in Joan Girardi's bedroom, the girl warrior is fitfully sleeping as she dreams. Transition into her dream…

Joan is standing on one side of a giant balance scale, and Ryan Hunter stands on the other side. Joan's side is all the way up while Ryan's side is all the way down. Ryan mocks Joan…

"I thought you were suppose to counter-balance me?"

Joan looks down at Ryan's side and sees Will standing next to Ryan.

"No fair. You've got my Dad on your side."

Helen suddenly appears next to Joan. "Don't worry honey, I'm here."

"Mom, you're on my side?"

"Oh look, there's Ryan!" (She whispers…) "He's so handsome."

Will calls out, "Helen, come over and be with me and my best friend."

"Okey-dokey." Helen responds as she disappears and then reappears on Ryan's side of the scale.

"No! Mom, Dad, please be on my side."

Will laughs, "Sorry Joan, but you're crazy."

John Hunter appears on Joan's right. "I've got your back, Joan."

Dylan appears on Joan's left. "I'm here too, Joan."

"Finally, those I can rely on. I love you, Dylan." Joan says as she hugs her boyfriend.

"Wait a minute, why are you on the opposite side of Uncle Ryan?"

"Because he's evil."

"No he isn't, he's a good guy. Besides, he's family."

Dylan disappears from Joan's embrace, and then is standing next to Ryan.

"You know, Dylan makes a lot of sense." Dr. Hunter says before he too switches to the other side.

Joan cries, "Will no one stand with me?"

"I'm with you, Jane." Adam says as he appears. He takes Joan in his arms to comfort her. "I'll never betray you."

"But…you already did."

"Oh yeah, and Ryan saved my life and gave me a great job. What am I doing over here?"

Adam also disappears and then is on Ryan's side.

Ryan shouts, "You see Joan, no one stays with you. You're alone!"

"No, God is on my side."

An unknown voice says, "Are you sure, Joan?"

Joan turns and faces a teenage boy her own age, who looks vaguely familiar.

"I know you… Jim? Jim Dawes?"

"Your eighth grade boyfriend."

"I remember. You begged me for two weeks to let you get to second base, and when I did, you bragged to every boy in school. I was humiliated. You broke my heart!"

"It was the easiest way to get rid of you. I was so tired of you by then, and once I had what I wanted, why keep you around? That's the way the world works, Joan. That's why God is dumping you."

Ryan says, "Listen to the boy, Joan. He makes sense."

"No, no, God would never leave me."

Jim says, "When you were nearly five, what happened to Yah-Yah?"

"He went away…"

"When you were sick with Lyme disease and needed him most, where was God?"

"He…left me."

"You're losing your war with Ryan. God is smart enough to relaize that, and is cutting his losses. It's not your fault, Joan. You were outmatched from the start."

"God is leaving me?"

"He has to train a new apprentice."

Ryan says, "What chance do you have on your own, Joan? My plan is to destroy everything that is important to you—your school, your friends, and your family. When I am through with you, you will curse the day God first spoke to you, and you will beg me to end your miserable existence. Retreat while you can, Joan. You're all alone."

"I'm…alone?"

Jim says, "You're all alone."

Jim Dawes disappears, and then, one-by-one, all the people on Ryan's side disappear. Finally, a grinning Ryan fades away. Joan drops to her knees, crying.

"I'm alone…"

X X X X X

11-18-05/Friday, sunrise.

In the Girardi kitchen, Joan sits alone with a half empty cup of coffee and an untouched pop-tart. A stack of 5 X 7 index cards, containing a speech, sit nearby, but are ignored by her. Joan is lost in thought…

The dream had been disturbing, especially since Joan knew it wasn't an ordinary dream. She was experienced enough now to tell the difference, and this one had been filled with spiritual energy. But should she take it at face value? Often these dreams had hidden messages, metaphors, and just plain old hints. But no matter how Joan twisted and turned the dream—looking at it from every angle—nothing occurred to her. God was simply giving her a handshake farewell with a hearty, "Thanks for trying."

Great, as if this week hadn't been bad enough. Wednesday was Dylan's eighteenth birthday, and she went all out to make it special. She prepared a gourmet meal, and made up her own mixed CD of romantic music (Dylan's preference for Christian rock seemed inappropriate to the occasion). They traveled that evening to the riverside make-out spot Joan had mentioned on their first date. There, they at least had the start of a great evening…

The soft music from the minivan's sound system, and the warmth from the heater which protected them from the November chill, made them feel isolated from the world as they watched the moonlight on the river. The food was delicious (although Dylan must have been nervous, for he ate very little). They spoke of their love, and how fortunate they were to have found each other in this crazy world. Joan felt silly expressing it this old-fashioned way, but she told Dylan her gift to him was her virginity. But Dylan was so obviously moved by this gesture, she was glad she phrased it that way.

They moved to the back of the minivan, and as their passion grew, layers of clothing began to be discarded. Joan exulted in the intense sensations her body felt from the hot caresses of Dylan's strong, gentle hands. Eagerly she explored his body—God, he really was incredibly well built. Their kisses became hard and demanding as their bodies began to glisten with sweat. Still they spoke of their love in between moans of growing pleasure and excitement.

As Dylan paused to add the necessary protection, Joan felt a wave of happiness knowing she had waited for the right moment and the right guy for her first time. Now there were no doubts. Her body joyously shouted to her, YES! Her mind fully agreed—YES! But, a soft tiny voice from deep within her whispered…'no'.

Joan dismissed this and concentrated on being animalistic, which was easy to do at that moment. Her body readied itself to receive Dylan; her mind prepared to offer an encouraging, 'Take me now!'; but still the little voice from her…soul, pleaded 'no'. Joan wanted to shout, 'You don't get a vote!', but of course that wasn't so. At literally the last possible moment, and to her horror, Joan heard herself cry out… "Stop, stop. Dylan, please stop."

Although a lot of guys would have pretended not to have heard, that wasn't Dylan Hunter. With a heavy sigh, he rolled away from her, and lay on his back while his body trembled from this hormonal roller coaster... And there they were, two teenagers—young, naked, in love, and miserable.

Sitting at the kitchen table, Joan feels tears plop from her eyes at this painful memory. She takes a sip of her coffee and tries to calm down. Maybe she really was insane? Surely it wasn't normal for mind, body and soul to be this much at war with each other…

Back at that night, after she had slammed on the brakes, there was nothing left to do but to get dressed while avoiding eye contact. Joan would have offered an apology, but 'sorry' just didn't seem adequate. While she remained in the back of the minivan, Dylan drove them from the river back to Arcadia. Joan softly cried as they traveled in silence, for neither knew what to say. Somehow, deep inside of her—perhaps from where that 'no' had come from—Joan knew she was at strike two with Dylan. One more time and they would be done. Of course she didn't bring this up to Dylan. Guys were clueless about their deeper emotions, and he would have just stared at her blankly while denying it. But she knew. If she couldn't find a quick solution to her sex hang-up, she was going to lose Dylan.

Joan snaps back to the now when she hears her Dad entering the kitchen.

"Good morning sweetie. I can't remember the last time you were up this early."

"I had a bad dream that woke me up, and I couldn't get back to sleep. I decided to go over my speech instead."

"Nervous?"

"About speaking in front of the whole school and a lot of important visitors? More than a little. I just hope I don't put everyone to sleep."

"I'm sure it will be fine."

"Don't get your hopes up. It's mostly a lot of boring history. The school was opened 200 years ago today. It's been torn down and rebuilt a half dozen times on the same land—the last time in 1953, blah, blah,blah."

"Joan, it's okay. No one expects razzle-dazzle on a formal occasion like this."

"You will be there, right?"

"It's on my schedule. That's why I'm up so early. I have to take care of some work at the office before I go to the ceremony."

"Does your work include the Gatorade poisoning?"

"Joan remember, that is a secret. We don't want to start a panic, and we want to keep the poisoner off guard and guessing about what went wrong with his plan."

"How long can you keep this out of the media?"

"Hopefully long enough to do some good. Outside of a few members of the force, the only ones who know about this are you, Chadwick, Dr. Hunter and your two friends, Friedman and Dylan."

"We all got the lecture on the need for secrecy. I can't imagine any of us blabbing."

"As long as it stays that way, we may have a chance at a breakthrough."

X X X X X

Meanwhile next door, Dylan enters his bedroom while conducting a tour for his uncle…

"Lastly, my room."

"Very nice. Are you sure your father won't be back?"

"Relax Uncle Ryan, Dad left early on a personal errand, and then he was going straight into the office."

"I know it's ridiculous of me, but I actually feel guilty being in his home."

"You wouldn't if the two of you could patch things up. Maybe in time for Thanksgiving?"

"That's not going to happen." Ryan says as he looks out the window. "At least you have a good view of the Girardi house. You're not peeping into Joan's bedroom, are you?"

"No, of course not. That would be ungentlemanly. Besides, she keeps her curtains closed."

Ryan chuckles at the old joke. "I hope you're being careful. The surest way to ruin your life is to get your high school girlfriend pregnant."

"We're not… That is, things haven't quite progressed that far."

"Glad to hear you're taking it slow."

Ryan's phone buzzes, and he asks Dylan to excuse him as he attends to a text message. While Ryan is busy, Dylan's mind drifts back to the night of his birthday…

He should have known that it would be a disastrous evening by how badly it started. First, Joan insisted they travel out to the county line to a spot overlooking the river. That meant they had to travel the same route as they had taken on their first date, which only reminded Dylan of the savage beating he had received from the Crowe brothers. Then Joan insisted on playing the CD she brought, and their tastes in music really didn't mesh. Just because he liked Christian rock, Joan assumed he didn't listen to or collect 'real music' (which, by the way, was a little insulting). Then there was that awful meal Joan had been so proud of. He was trying to spare her feelings, but her heavy-handedness with garlic ruined everything she made. He just didn't like garlic.

But then the night improved when Joan said she was giving him the gift of her virginity. The love for her in his heart swelled so much, he thought his chest would burst. If it had been at all possible, he would have married her then and there. Unfortunately, the night fell apart after that. On the miserable drive home, he blamed himself for doing something wrong, something that so freaked Joan out, she stopped him just before… Well, just before.

What was it? Had he rushed her or pressured her? They had only recently begun expressing their love for each other, and right after that his birthday rolled around. Maybe because of the combination of those events, Joan felt obligated to make her offer before she was ready. Maybe she thought he expected it of her?

As guilty as this thought made Dylan feel, his next was much worse... Had he been too rough? She was so petite and fragile compared to him. He thought he was being carefully gentle, but in the passion of the moment, he couldn't swear he hadn't lost control. Oh God, he would die if he knew he had hurt Joan. But...wouldn't she have said something?

And yet another terrible thought came to him. What if it was all because he was a lousy lover? True, Joan had encouraged him with frequent moans of pleasure, but what if she were faking it out of kindness? Everyone knew a girl could fake it. There was even that famous movie scene where a woman proves how easy it is to fool a guy. Could that be it? In order to cross that threshold, Joan needed a genuine passion and pleasure that he was unable to provide. What if he could never please her...or any woman?

This thought caused a near panic in the core of his being. Desperately, Dylan drove the thought away, but it kept coming back. This doubt, this fear latched on to him and wouldn't let go. Somehow, he had to know...

"Dylan?"

Dylan shook himself from his reverie as he realized Uncle Ryan had been speaking to him. "What? I'm sorry Uncle, I was daydreaming."

"I asked, how much trouble did you get into over smashing into that Gatorade cooler?"

"Oh, uh, none at all. Without proof, Mr. Chadwick had to, uh, drop all charges."

Ryan smiles. "Nephew, your fine moral upbringing has left you totally inept at lying."

Dylan hangs head in obvious shame. "Sorry, Uncle Ryan. It's just that I promised to keep this confidential."

"Not a problem. I don't understand why, but if you feel this information should be kept from me..."

"What? No, it's not that. In fact, as head of the police review committee, and a member of the school board, you of all people should know what's going on."

"Alright then, how did your knocking over a drink cooler become such a big secret?"

"The night of the game, I deliberately smashed into that cooler at Joan's request. She had a hunch it was poisoned, and the police lab confirmed it was laced with arsenic."

"Incredible, but why is this news being kept quiet?"

"Chief Girardi asked all who knew about it to keep it secret. Something about it helping their chances of catching the guy."

"Will Girardi is a good man and a good cop, but I find this decision hard to agree with. If the people who have been going after religious institutions are now targeting the children of those groups, the public has a right to be warned."

"Uncle Ryan, you wouldn't print this in your newspaper, would you?"

"You've put me in an awkward position. My every instinct is to shout this long and loud, but I could never betray your trust, Dylan. I just hope Will knows what he is doing."

"He's going to be at the bicentennial celebration. Are you going to bring it up to him?"

"Probably not. My speech is on the future of Arcadia High, and I don't expect a warm reception."

X X X X X

Later that morning at the Arcadia High athletic field...

To everyone's relief, the weather was perfect for the bicentennial celebration. The unsually warm day was ideal, for the whole morning was set aside for the celebration ceremonies. A huge banner proclaimed: ARCADIA HIGH 1805--2005. The entire student body fills the stands, and hundreds of folding chairs are set up in front of the speaker's platform. The chairs are for alumni, faculty, staff, the media and distinguished guests. In the front row is Will Girardi in his dress uniform with all the gold braid and medals. Joan thinks her Dad looks very distinguished as he chats amiably with his old boss, Sheriff Mike Rakowski.

Joan is the only student on the platform, as she sits with their local congressman, a state senator, the head of the state Department of Education, some boring historian from the county museum, school board member Ryan Hunter, and a nervous Steven Chadwick, who serves as master of ceremonies. From her seat, Joan can see everything, including her mother with the faculty, and Kevin with the media. Luke and Grace, however, are no where to be seen. No doubt the out-of-control couple has sneaked away (again) to have sex in the biology closet. With Rabbi Aaron Polonsky, now a city councilman, sitting in the front row, Joan can't help but wonder how long it will be before the pair are inevitably caught being lovers.

Speaking of lovers, Joan spots Dylan as he returns from a quick 'pit stop' and heads back to his assigned seat with the basketball team. To do so, he has to go by an entire row of cheerleaders, who all flirt with him. There are welcoming smiles with coy waves, and musical greetings of: "Hiii Dylannn." One bold skank even pinches his bottom! Dylan ignores them, but it takes every ounce of self-control Joan can muster not to run up into the stands and rip the hair out of that bitch's scalp. That was the problem with dating the hottest guy in school. Every girl prettier than Joan thought it was her God given right to steal Dylan away from her.

Normally Joan didn't worry, because since day one of school, Dylan only had eyes for her. However, she had recently given her boyfriend a swift kick in his...egos (metaphorically speaking). Her experience with Adam taught her that this could set off a terrible series of consequences. For one stomach twisting moment, Joan wonders if Dylan has ever met Bonnie. No, that was absurd. As she has just seen, Dylan could do so much better than that greasy skank. And maybe that was part of the problem? Perhaps Joan couldn't fully commit to Dylan because, down deep, she worried she couldn't hold on to him with so many beautiful girls making him offers as bold as any streetwalker's. Maybe...but it felt like she was rationalizing.

The bicentennial celebration continues with the unearthing of the 1905 time capsule, and to everyone's relief, all the seals are intact. The old time capsule would be opened later by members of the city historical society. The new time capsule, a large stainless steel cannister, was being filled with numerous items. Every school department got to pick one item to go inside. the science department's choice, on Lishack's telephoned recommendation, was the Hawking award winning report on the velocity of atoms by Friedman and Glynis (much to Luke's annoyance). The music department contributed a CD player containing a collection of music CDs by the school's band and orchestra. The drama department added a videotape of last year's zombie musical. (Joan doubted the tape would be usable after a century, even if you could find a working VCR in 2105.) The art department contributed a portrait by Adam (again of Glynis, but this time fully clothed). If Adam turned out to be the great artist many people expected, then his artwork would be a valuable find for those in the next century.

The last and largest item to go in was a blue duffel bag contributed by Ryan. For weeks the Herald had been soliciting cards and letters from ordinary citizens to send to the people of a hundred years from now. The heavy duffel bag was crammed with thousands of those messages. Joan watches as Ryan laughs, smiles and generally charms everone he comes in contact with. If only they knew the monster behind that charismatic mask.

Finally, the long list of boring speakers began their very predictable speeches. Eventually it was Joan's turn, and even though she thought her speech to be the dullest of all, the audience actually seemed interested. With great relief, Joan come to the end of her ordeal...

"And so, we can see the 200 year history of Arcadia High has closely paralleled the growth and progress of the nation. As we bury this new time capsule, we can be confident that a century from now, our nation and our school will still be thriving. Thank you."

Joan breathes out a 'whew' and hastily returns to her seat. Principal Chadwick rises, gives Joan a nod of approval, and approaches the microphone...

"Thank you student council president, Joan Girardi. And now to wrap up today's program, speaking on the topic of the future of Arcadia High, please welcome the vice-chairman of the Hogan County school board, Mr. Ryan Hunter."

In accordance with Ryan's popularity, the applause for him is far more enthusiastic than any of the other speakers.

"Thank you Principal Chadwick, and my thanks to the students, faculty, alumni and friends of Arcadia high. My part today was to give a rousing speech on the bright future of this school. Sadly, due to late breaking news, I must depart from the scheduled agenda. When that time capsule is opened a hundred years from now, Arcadia High will no longer exist."

This causes a lot of muttering from the crowd. Joan softly speaks to herself, "It's just like my dream. First he's going to destroy my school..."

Ryan continues, "Please, please allow me to explain. As Miss Girardi told us in her speech, the current version of Arcadia High is over fifty years old. That is why this summer, a consulting firm was hired to study whether Arcadia High should undergo a major refurbishing, or be replaced with a new building. The answer we got back was an unexpected one--that the school should be closed."

From the crowd comes multiple cries of 'No!' and 'Boo!'.

"Yes, that was my first reaction as well, however, the truth is, Arcadia High has had a declining enrollment for the last tem years. The demographics of this neighborhood are changing. The business district is expanding, and the residential area is dominated by the baby boom generation, whose children are now moving beyond school age. With these trends, in five years the student population of this school will only be half of what it is now. That is why last night, in a closed meeting of the school board, it was agreed by a six to one vote to...sell the school property to a private developer."

The audience is now angry--muttering and gesturing wildly. There are curses and cries of 'Corruption!'.

Ryan adds, "With the graduation of the class of 2006 in May, the school will be demolished, and a new mall will take its' place. I'm sorry I had to break this news today of all days, but I felt you had a right to know."

Ryan, seemingly sad, turns and walks away. As he passes Joan, he briefly smiles.

X X X X X

A short time later, in the school parking lot, Dylan is already waiting beside his uncle's limousine. Ryan approaches as the chauffeur opens the car door. In the distance, Joan and a dozen angry students, including Glynis, approach...

Ryan says, "Dylan, I won't bother asking how you liked my speech."

"Why Uncle Ryan? Why did you have to ruin this day?"

"Because I believe in the public's right to know, even if it is a painful report. The sooner people have the truth in their hands, the sooner they can choose to act."

Joan and her fellow students arrive. She demands, "So this is the plan? To destroy my school?"

Ryan replies, "I know you're upset, Joan, but I'm not to blame. The record will show that mine was the only vote against this land deal."

Dylan adds, "Yeah Joan, you're making it sound like something personal."

"To me it is personal. This school is important to me and to all the students who attend here."

Ryan says, "At least now you have fair warning, should you decide to do battle over this matter."

Ryan enters his limousine, and moments later it pulls away.

Glynis says, "You're our leader, Joan. What should we do?"

"Spread the word. I'm calling an emergency meeting of the student council at lunch time. We are declaring war."

X X X X X

At noon, Joan is in the corridor outside the multi-purpose room. She pauses at the door to pray...

"God, I need you. I'm so confused. I keep calling out to you, but you're not talking. Is what I dreamed real? After the school, are my friends and family next? God, where are you? Have you really abandoned me for a new disciple?"

Joan looks about for any sign of God, but no luck. She sighs and enters. The first person she sees is her brother Kevin.

"Kev, what are you doing here?"

"I was covering the ceremony when Ryan dropped his bombshell. I thought student reaction would be a good angle on my story."

"Cool. We can use all the publicity we can get." (Joan goes to the front of the crowd and spots Grace.) "Grace? You're not on student council."

"I'm the alternate for Homeroom 15. Tom Fowler is out with mono."

From across the room, a girl's voice is heard. "Mono? Oh crap!"

Grace shrugs. "Drama everywhere."

Grace takes a seat as Joan raps on the lectern.

"Okay, everone come to order. Since this is an emergency meeting, we will dispense with the reading of the minutes and old business. The question before us is, how do we save Arcadia High? Ideas?"

Grace suggests, "Track down every school board member and set fire to his car?"

"Any sane suggestions?"

Grace adds, "Stage a sit-in at the office of the school board?"

"Okay, we have a Plan 'B'. Anyone besides Grace?"

Glynis responds, "We should start with a letter of protest that challenges the premise the board acted on."

"You mean that demographic estimate?"

"Precisely. It is true that the boomer generation dominates the surrounding district, but most are approaching retirement age. Soon they will be selling their homes in order to enter retirement communities. Younger families will be moving in. This district is on the cusp of a major demographic shift."

"Good idea. Pick a partner to back you up on that letter of protest."

Glynis says, "Grace, I could use your firery passion to enhance my cold logic."

Grace nods. "Sounds dull, but I'm in."

Joan asks, "Any other ideas?"

Noah Beaumont suggests, "How about a petition--a huge one. Signed not just by students, but teachers and parents as well."

"A good start, but think bigger. Don't forget alumni--there were a lot of pissed old-timers out there. Also, property owners who don't have kids at this school. The lack of a school in the district will lower their property values. Business owners too--a new mall would cut into their profits."

Noah responds, "Wow, something that big will have to be organized through e-mail. I'll need help with a project that big."

"Ask Friedman. He's good at that. Okay, any more ideas? No? Well, mull it over any bring any new suggestions to the next council meeting. This session is now closed. Go enjoy your lunch."

As the students begin dispersing, Kevin starts to interview Joan.

X X X X X

11-19-05/Saturday afternoon.

It is Luke's seventeenth birthday, and the Girardi family, plus Grace, are gathered curbside next to a late model Jeep Wrangler. Will is formally handing Luke the keys while Helen takes pictures.

"Be sure to drive carefully." Will says. (He then leans in close to Luke and whispers...) "Do everything carefully."

Luke smiles and nods.

Grace says, "Thanks again for including me in the party, Mr. and Mrs. Girardi. The lasagna was delicious."

Helen responds, "Our pleasure, Grace. Enjoy your first ride, guys."

Grace says, "Let's roll, Dawson."

Helen asks, "Dawson?"

Grace enters the Jeep while an embarassed Luke replies. "Grace's attempt at humor. She found out I liked Dawson's Creek, and now she sometimes calls me...Dawson."

Joan says, "I like that, and having a Jeep like he did completes the effect."

From the Jeep, Grace adds, "Besides, Luke actually thinks he looks like Dawson."

"A slight resemblance is all I said. So enough of this, or I'll start calling you 'Joey Potter'."

"You better not, Dude. I couldn't stand Joey Potter--the most embarassingly high-maintenace girlfriend in the history of the world."

Joan says, "Yeah, Grace is more like Jen Lynley."

"The slutty one? Thanks Girardi."

"I was thinking more along the lines of wild and rebellious."

"Oh. Okay, I'll buy that."

Luke enters the driver's side and starts the Jeep. The family waves and shouts 'Bye' as he drives away. A smiling Will and Helen walk arm in arm back to the house.

Kevin says, "I'm heading over to Lily's to help her pack. Want a lift to work?"

"It's too early. My shift doesn't start until four. So where is Lily going?"

"She's taking the train to New York to spend Thanksgiving week with her family."

"Wow, she's spending a lot of time with them."

"Making up for lost time, she says. You sure about that ride?"

"Nah, I'll take the bus into work."

A voice says, "Or I could give you a lift."

Kevin and Joan turn to see Dylan walking up to them. Kevin nods, and Joan speaks..

"Hey Dylan."

"Hey guys. Was that Luke I saw driving away in a Jeep?"

Joan replies, "Yeah, today is his seventeenth birthday, and the 'rents bought him a car."

Kevin says, "Partial truth. As a member of the media, I demand full disclosure."

"Go peddle your papers. Okay, Dad and Mom have the car in their name, something about cheaper insurance, but Luke gets the keys to the Jeep. And here's the fun part, on my birthday I get a set of keys too. Luke and I have to figure out some way to share."

Kevin chuckles. "I'm looking forward to some epic battles. I may even record them and offer them as pay-per-view on the internet."

"How long before the battles begin?"

Joan sighs. "Thursday. That's when I turn eighteen."

"This Thursday? That's Thanksgiving."

"Yeah, lucky me. I get pumpkin pie instead of a birthday cake."

"I guess I'll have to hustle to find... an appropriate birthday gift."

Kevin says, "How about a set of earrings that look like turkeys?"

Joan tsks, "Don't you have a girlfriend who is waiting for you?"

"I can take a hint. Dylan, don't forget--turkey earrings. No matter what Joan says, I know she wants them."

Dylan smiles. "I'll keep it in mind."

Joan protests, "Don't you dare!"

(Kevin laughs and rolls away.)

Dylan responds, "Relax, I'd never get you turkey earrings, at least not without the matching necklace."

Joan smiles. "Maybe you should think along the lines of a gift certificate."

"Don't trust my taste?"

"Never met a guy yet that was good at shopping. So, what are your plans for Thanksgiving? I take it Ryan won't be coming to your house."

"No, even though I asked him. He says he doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving.. I was hoping my sister Barbara could fly in, but no such luck."

"You...have a sister?"

"Didn't I mention her?"

"You did not. In fact, the night of my Dad's party, Dr. Hunter said he and you were Ryan's only family."

"That's because Barbara is my half-sister. A child of my Mom's first marriage."

"So she's still in California?"

"Yeah, she's a senior at U.S.C., studying film. Her dad is a movie director. After my Mom died, he of course got custody, but Barb and I are still close."

"Cool. I hope to meet her someday..."

"I'll arrange it the first time she visits..."

An awkward silence falls as the two run out of small talk. Each is aware of the topic that must be discussed. Joan goes first.

"Dylan, about the other night, there's something I wanted to tell you. I want you to look me in the eye and completely trust that I'm telling the truth."

Dylan steps off the curb and faces Joan. They are now fairly close to eye level.

"Go ahead."

"The problem we had...that I had on your birthday was all my fault. I wish I had a better explanation to offer, but I have some enormous hang-up about sex that I haven't figured out yet. You did nothing wrong. In fact, you were amazing..."

"Joan, are you sure there was nothing I couldn't have done...better?"

"Hey, don't go there. You were wonderful and I wanted you to know that in case you were having doubts, and were considering..." (Joan's voice begins to tremble.)

"I am not Adam Rove. I would never cheat on you. But thank you Joan for the reassuring words, even though I...barely gave a thought to that aspect."

Joan heard what he was saying, but realizes Dylan is protecting his pride, for his body language proclaims a moment of extreme relief. Joan thinks: It's true, no guy can think beyond the length of his... Here Joan pauses to supress a naughty smirk as she thinks: At least with Dylan, that was an impressive distance.

Feeling reassured, Joan throws her arms around Dylan and begins to kiss him over and over. It didn't matter they were in front of both of their houses. She was in love. Let the whole world watch.

X X X X X

Meanwhile, in the Figliola apartment, Adam and Glynis are in bed, kissing and fondling under the sheets...

"You're sure your mother won't be back?"

"Positive. She works at the library until five, grabs a quick sandwich and then goes directly to her Esperanto class."

"Then we don't have to rush."

"Not at all."

They resume their kissing and touching. Adam gives Glynis feathery caresses along her bare hip, and she responds with kisses to the side of his neck. Before their relationship began, he only thought of being naked in bed with a girl in terms of sex. Glynis introduced him to this pastime of playful cuddling, and he was amazed at how much fun it was.

In fact, his entire relationship with Glynis came as an enchanting revelation. Of course it started with sex. Adam's only previous experience was with Bonnie, and that was filled with so much shame and guilt, he never enjoyed it. But Glynis was so surprisingly free and happy in bed. Their every time together was a celebration of life.

Even more surprising was how well they clicked outside of bed. Music? Glynis enjoyed a wide variety, including Adam's favorite--jazz. Film? Glynis was a major film buff, and knew even more than he did about his favorite, film noir. And, she didn't mind going to the smelly old Rialto to watch the classic black & white movies shown there. Art? Glynis had an encyclopedic knowledge of the subject. And Adam took pride in how quickly her sketchwork had advanced. Mrs. Girardi was so impressed, she wanted to advance Glynis to the intermediate class, but the administration wouldn't allow it so late in the semester.

Yes, he realized his luck had changed for the better when Glynis had timidly asked him to be her boyfriend. Their relationship flowed so easily, unlike the constant struggle he'd had with Joan. Looking at Glynis, her lovely face haloed by her golden hair, he spoke directly from his heart...

"I love you Glynis." (Wow, that felt so good to say, because he knew it was true. Now, if only Glynis didn't have that look of frozen horror on her face...)

"What did you say?"

"I-I love you."

Glynis turns her back on Adam, and scoots to the far side of the bed. Her tense body language proclaims: 'Don't touch me'.

"Glynis, I..." (Wait. He was about to do that automatic guy thing of apologizing to an upset girl without really knowing why.)

"Glynis, I didn't mean to upset you. Maybe I sprang this on you too suddenly, but it's true. I love you. Don't feel you have to say it back."

Adam pauses. No, apparently she wasn't going to say it back. The silence was getting awkward.

"Glynis, you're really leaving me hanging here. Don't you care for me, even a little?"

Glynis turns back towards him, and Adam is surprised to see she is crying.

"Oh Adam, of course I care for you. I care for you so much, it scares me."

"Scares you? But why? Falling in love is a good thing."

"Not for me. Have you ever wondered why I've never been able to hold on to a boyfriend?"

Honestly, no he hadn't, but now Adam wonders why. His experience with Glynis was amazing. He couldn't imagine any guy being foolish enough to let her go.

Glynis continues, "I have a major flaw. A type of psychological quirk that ruins every relationship right after I hear those three little words. It began with Luke. We were both so young and naive about relationships. On our first week's anniversary, Luke told me he loved me. Of course neither of us had a clue about what love really meant. We were just children playing at the game of love."

"I remember the two of you started out happy."

"Yes, but as soon as I heard those words, something snapped in me. I became doubly obsessed. First with a desperate need to hold on to Luke, and then with a need to be constantly reassured of his love. I became terrified I was going to lose him while insanely demanding all of his time and attention."

"Didn't you know that would drive him away?"

"Intellectually I knew, but I couldn't stop myself. Poor Luke, I made him so miserable. When he inevitably dumped me, I was crushed, but the pain drove me to find a new relationship as quickly as possible. So I moved on...and on...and on."

"I remember you said you had three boyfriends after Luke."

"Yes, three incredible losers--all of them older college guys who saw in me an easy target for seduction. I knew none of them really cared for me, but I was so desperate to believe they did. They all said 'I love you' to get me into bed. It worked, but they paid the price. As soon as I heard those three words, my obsession would return. My constant need for attention quickly drove them all away. The last one was Shawn."

"I remember him from Judith's party."

"I suppose he was the best of a bad bunch, but soon even he got fed up and dumped me. After that, I came to my senses. I realized I had to escape this pattern before it destroyed me. I just couldn't take the pain any longer. That's why I spent nearly all of jumior year alone, doing a lot of soul searching."

"Did that help?"

"I at least identified the problem. It was so obvious. My father's desertion of me at the age of ten set up a psychological need for the unconditional love of a male figure, while also instilling an overwhelming fear of abandonment. Hearing those word, 'I love you' acts as a trigger within me."

"But now that you're aware of the problem..."

"Is no guarantee I can control myself. When I first realized I was attracted to you, I thought: Okay, I'll be different this time. I'll keep it light, casual and fun. As long as I didn't commit myself, then it wouldn't hurt so much if the relationship didn't work out." (Glynis puts her hand on Adam's cheek and stares adoringly into his eyes.) "What a fool I was to think I wouldn't fall hard for a great guy like you."

"Then, you do love me."

Glynis nods, too afraid to say the words. "But Adam, because I care for you so very much, we have to end it."

"Glynis, that's crazy."

"Haven't you been paying attention? I am crazy. But I have enough rationality left to know I can't, I won't put you through that kind of hell."

"I'm willing to take the risk."

"Adam, you don't know what you are saying. Talk to Luke. He got the mildest version of my obsessive behavior, and he can tell you, it's enough to drive any guy away."

"I don't have to talk to Luke, or any of those other guys. They were never in love with you, but I am. You know the problem, you've matured, and I love you enough not to let you get away with any of that crap."

Glynis chuckles. "You're an amazing man, Adam Rove. I'm so lucky to have you in my life. I swear, I'll give it all I've got to be the best possible girlfriend."

"You already are."

Suddenly, Adam tickles Glynis, and she shrieks with laughter. They fall into each other's arms and begin to kiss passionately.

X X X X X

The next few days pass slowly and miserably for Joan as she continues to hope for an appearance by God. She works her shifts at the bookstore, and eagerly examines every customer, looking for a hint of the divine. On Monday and Tuesday she makes excuses to Dylan to not ride to school with him. She follows her old pattern of riding the bus everywhere, but God is not to be found at any of the bus stops or on the buses. At school she carefully checks every worker, teacher and even mirror hoping to see God. At home she endlessly channel surfs the TV, makes certain her cell phone is turned on, and waits on the front steps wrapped in a blanket on the chance any version of God would try to contact her. Late at night she prays, cries and prays some more. As each hour ticks by without the divine presence, the sadder and more desperate Joan becomes. Eventually, she accepts the inevitable. The dream was true. God is gone...

X X X X X

11-23-05/Wednesday morning.

Joan exits the elevator at the top floor of the Herald building. She approaches the desk of Ryan's secretary, Mrs. Burke.

"May I help you, Miss?"

"I'd like to speak with Mr. Hunter. I'm Joan Girardi."

"You have no appointment. What's this about?"

"It's a personal matter."

"Well, Mr. Hunter hasn't arrived yet..."

At that moment, Ryan pokes his head out from his office door.

"Not true, Mrs. B. I just came up in my private elevator. Traffic was horrible, but I made it on time."

"Good morning, sir. Your mail is sorted and on your desk. There is fresh coffee, and your first appointment is in twenty minutes. Also, this young lady is here on a personal matter."

"Why Joan, what an unexpected pleasure. Do come in."

Joan follows Ryan into his luxurious office. He takes the chair behind the enormous desk, and she perches on the edge of a chair in front of him.

Ryan smirks, "So, what mighty mission from God brings you by so early?"

"None. That's over. I'm here to...negotiate the terms of my surrender."

"You're giving up? Just like that? What happened to that girl-warrior spirit? After all, you're the one who told me she would win because she had God on her side."

"I told him from the start I wasn't up to this task. It looks like he finally agrees. God has stopped talking to me."

Ryan chuckles. "That's always annoying, but it happens. He gets into one of his famous snits, and goes off to pout. Try crawling back to him on you hands and knees. It strokes his massive ego."

"No, he's not angry with me, just disappointed. I can feel it so strongly... God is gone from my life. He's moved on to train a new chosen instrument."

"How do you know this?"

"I had a dream. One of those special ones."

"I know the kind you mean."

"I realize without God to guide me, I have no business being at war with you."

"Without God, you're just a civilan. Unfortunately, in war it is the civilans who most often get hurt."

"You...won't let me out of this?"

"Oh, I can be magnanimous in victory. I'll let you go on two conditions. First, you must leave Arcadia and never return."

"How soon?"

"I'll be kind. The first semester of the school year ends in a month, so I'll give you until the end of the year to get out of my town. That will allow you time to invent a pausible excuse for your departure."

"And the second condition?"

"I take it you and Dylan have not yet begun a sexual relationship?"

"That's none of your business."

"Oh, but it is. Dylan fancies himself in love with you. I have big plans for that boy, and they don't include him mooning over a girl like you. My second condition is that you break it off with Dylan quickly and completely. The sooner he gets into a rebound relationship and starts banging some other girl, the sooner he will get you out of his system."

Joan wipes away a single tear from her cheek. "And if I do these things, do you swear not to harm the people I care about?"

"Of course. Why would I bother? After all, you've given me a new goal to focus on."

"Which is?"

"To find and destroy this new instrument of God."

Joan come unsteadily to her feet. She tries to control her emotions. "Eventually you'll lose."

"I know. That's the big advantage the old guy has on us. Time is on his side. Even so, the thrill of winning any victory against him makes it all worthwhile." (Ryan escorts Joan over to his private elevator, and presses the key code to make it open.) "And by the time I leave this miserable world of his, I'll have my own disciple in place to carry on my work."

"Dylan?"

"That's no longer your concern. Goodbye Joan. Hopefully your replacement will present a better challenge."

The door of the tiny elevator closes, and it begins its' rapid descent. As soon as she is alone, Joan begins to weep. Ryan returns to his desk and pushes the intercom button...

"Mrs. Burke, make a reservation for lunch at the Wentworth. Lobster and champagne. I'm celebrating"

X X X X X

Later that morning, a dejected Joan enters the Ap Biology class just before it is about to end. Edgar Heugel is there, frowning at her while he holds a thick set of papers.

"Sorry I'm late Mr. Heugel."

"You are beyond late, Miss Girardi. Class is almost over."

"Here's my late slip, sir."

Heugel accepts the late slip and hands Joan the stack of papers he is holding. "And here are the graded mid-terms that you can hand out to the class."

Joan goes to each student, handing them their test papers.

"Grades were mostly what I expected, with a couple of exceptions. Mr. Rove, you got an 'A plus', the same as Miss Figliola. You are to be congratulated on a wise choice in lab partners. Mr. Girardi, a disappointing 'B plus'. You may want to consider switching lab partners... Don't bother sitting down Miss Girardi, I have another menial task for you."

Joan returns to Heugel and gets another stack of papers to pass out. She sighs and begins her task.

"While Miss Girardi is passing out these forms, I will remind you to study the next three chapters in your textbook. You have four days off, so that will be plenty of time to prepare for a quiz on Monday."

The class groans.

"Quiet! No one is interested in your opinion. Don't bother sitting down Miss Girardi when there are boards to be cleaned."

"Mr. Heugel..."

"People who are late for class are doomed to a life of common labor. Get used to it."

Joan trudges to the board and begins cleaning.

"The permit slips Miss Girardi has supplied you with are to be completed and returned on Monday, no exceptions. Check either yes or no and sign it. Those of you who check yes will be participating in the disection of frogs on Tuesday. You will be sketching your findings and answering pertinent questions. This exercise will be graded. Those of you who check no, for whatever personal or ethical reason, will be going to study hall that day. You will be given printed material that covers the disection experience. You will then take a pass/fail test."

Friedman raises his hand.

"To answer your obvious question, Mr. Friedman--how will this affect my grade? Those who pass the written test will receive a 'C'."

Grace grumbles, "That's unfair!"

"Do you really want to spend the afternoon before Thanksgiving in detention, Miss Polk?"

"No."

"No, what?"

"No...sir."

"Then to answer your remark, you get a fuller experience taking part in the disection process than you can get by just reading about it. That incomplete knowledge is reflected in a grade of average. For some of you, that represents the best you could hope for."

The bell rings.

"Enjoy your holiday, and be thankful the school board doesn't require you to disect turkeys. Class dismissed."

X X X X X

A minute later, the sub-defectives gather in the hallway to vent as they walk along...

Friedman mutters, "I hate that guy. I really hate him."

Dylan nods. "He is kind of harsh."

Grace asks, "And what was that crack about changing lab partners?"

Friedman smiles. "He probably meant your insatiable sexual demands on Luke have drained him of all energy and study time."

Friedman ducks, covering his head with his arms, but is surprised when Grace doesn't try to smack him.

"How could he even know about Luke and me?"

Glynis takes Adam's hand and smiles. "You really can't hide a thing like that in a high school."

"But what Heugel said can't be true. You and Rove are, uh..."

"Sexually active."

"Uh yeah, and Rove's grade improved."

Adam says, "Only because I memorized the lab notes Glynis gave me."

"Oh God, is it true? Luke, am I dragging you down?"

Luke holds out his test paper in front of him. "A 'B plus' Grace. Have you ever known me to get less than a full 'A'?"

Joan holds out her test paper. To everyone's surprise, it has an 'A minus'.

"Wow, this is the first time I've ever gotten a better grade than you in a science class."

Luke comes to a halt in a coridor intersection. The rest of the group stops behind him. Luke stares at Joan's paper.

"Cngratulations, Joan. i guess hell finally froze over."

Luke walks away, shaking his head.

Grace grumbles, "Thanks a lot, Girardi."

Grace exits in the opposite direction of Luke.

Glynis says, "Well, I have Asian History."

Adam adds, "And I have Trig."

Adam and Glynis tederly kiss and depart in opposite directions.

Joan says, "Great. The cherry on my day--watching that P.D.A."

Dylan asks, "It still bothers you?"

"I guess I'm use to it, but it doesn't help the lousy day I'm having."

"Yeah, why were you late for class?"

"I had a personal matter to attend to."

Dylan places his hand on Joan's shoulder. "Such as?"

Joan pulls away from his touch. "Try looking up the word 'personal' in the dictionary."

Joan hurries away while Dylan calls after her... "Joan?"

Friedman says, "Relax buddy, it's probably just that time of the month."

Dylan stares at dfriedman for a beat. "No wonder people smack you."

"Whatever. Time for Spanish, si amigo?"

"Si."

They walk away as the corridor rapidly empties of students.

X X X X X

Much later that afternoon, after school has ended, Joan drifts towards the main exit of the school. She spent most of this miserable day avoiding Dylan, and trying to plan for what was left of her shambles of a life. She would have to break up with Dylan, and very soon. Joan was under no illusions as to what Ryan would do to her if she disobeyed or only did the job half-heartedly. Actually, Dylan was the easiest task to accomplish. She knew how to get rid of him, and all it required was for her to be an incredible bitch.

Her second problem was a bit harder. Where should she go when the semester ended just before Christmas? There were only three viable options. Uncle Richard lived in Baltimore with his young family, and that was an easy commute from Arcadia. If she lived there (assuming a half niece would be welcome), it might cause a repair in relations between her Dad and Richard. Or...break her relationship with her father. No, that wouldn't work. Besides, Ryan might not see her close proximity to Arcadia as living up to their deal.

There was her Grandpa in Miami. They'd always had a special relationship, and no doubt Marcus Brodie would love having his 'Joanie' live with him. But he was getting married on New Year's day, and how would her new step-grandmother feel about a teenager moving in practically on their wedding day? It sounded like the plot of a bad sitcom.

That left Chicago and her maiden aunt, Theresa Girardi. Her Dad's older sister was a music teacher in the public schools (Joan shudders at the memory of all of those piano lessons). On the plus side, Aunt Theresa doted on her nephews and niece, and she lived in the same district as her old high school. She could have her last high school semester where she had started and still had friends. Chicago it was then.

That left the problem of how to explain her sudden departure from Arcadia. She would be 18 tomorrow, so her parents couldn't stop her, but everyone would want to know why. The only thing she could think of was her impending break-up with Dylan. She would proclaim a broken heart, and with Dylan right next door, how could she not be expected to leave the city? Since it was mostly the truth, that would have to do.

Uh-oh, there was Dylan by the exit, impatiently looking at his watch. Well, no time like the present...

Dylan says, "Finally. I've been waiting for over half an hour."

"Did we have an appointment?"

"Not offically, but we usually connect right after the last bell."

"So today was different."

"I looked for you all day--at lunch and at your locker between classes."

"Wow, it's like you're stalking me."

"I just wanted to spend time with my girlfriend."

"You say that like I'm your property. I do have a life seperate from yours."

"I know... Joan, what's wrong?"

"Just like a guy--you don't listen. I told you this morning, I'm having a bad day."

"Can I help?"

"I doubt it. Can you take away the pressures of school, work, student council, and having a clingy boyfriend?"

"I'm clingy?"

"Like you were a girl."

Dylan was begining to looked annoyed. "You're in a mood today."

"A mood? Yeah, I guess I'm in a 'mood'. That happens when you're suffering from a major league case of SEXUAL FRUSTRATION!"

With embarassed alarm, Dylan looks about to make sure they can't be overheard. "Hey, keep it down."

"Don't tell me what to do! God, I am so tired of you."

"What did I do wrong?"

"What did you do right? I'm fed up with being one of the last virgins in senior class."

"You're blaming me for that? You're the one who said, NO."

"And you couldn't be enough of a guy to get beyond that?"

"What are you saying? You wanted me to...force you?"

"I wanted you to realize, in order to get over that final threshold, I needed some Manly Persuasion. Too bad you never had the cohones to seal the deal."

"I was respecting your wishes!"

Joan mocks, "You always have an excuse. "You're a Christian'. 'You're a gentleman'. Well, I think you're just a coward who's too afraid to have sex. Maybe that's why you're so lousy at it. Why I always had to fake it."

"You said..."

"I knowe what I said! Every girl says the same thing to be kind when she's stuck with a dud like you. But I'm tired of the lies and the pretense, and most of all, I'm tired of your clumsy fumbling on my body. We are done!"

The hurt expression on Dylan's face nearly broke Joan's heart. Dylan tried to remain calm as he responded...

"No, I won't accept that. I don't know why you're saying these hateful things, but this isn't you Joan. I know you too well."

"You know me? Ha! You don't even know yourself."

"What does that mean?"

"Has it never occured to you that the reason we couldn't hook-up was because you might be just a little bit...gay?"

Dylan shakes his head in disbelief. "Have you lsot your mind? Maybe Friedman was right. It is your time of the month."

"Pig!" shouts Joan as she slaps Dylan as hard as she can. She winces from the pain in her hand.

Dylan barely feels the slap, but it is one insult too many. His body instinctively tenses for action as his voice goes low and scary.

"If you weren't a girl..."

Joan sneers, "Maybe if you weren't such a girl, you'd do something about it."

Dylan's fists tighten. Too late, Joan remembers Dr. Hunter's warning that Dylan can be mean when provoked. Joan closes her eyes and braces for the blow she fully expects.

Moments pass by and nothing occurs. Joan opens her eyes and looks around just in time to see Dylan storming out of the building--leaving her forever. Joan gulps, "Okay Ryan, you got what you wanted."

The tears flood from her, and Joan runs for the relative privacy of the restroom.

X X X X X

Meanwhile, in the school parking lot, Luke and Grace are in the Jeep sitting in stony silence. Neither will look at the other.

Grace asks, "Are you breaking up with me?"

"Of course not. Why would I?"

"Because I know how important grades are to you. How getting into M.I.T. is your dream."

"It was just one test. I can make it up with extra credit."

"When? Apparently my insatiable sexual needs have drained you of all energy and time."

"That's not true. My sex drive is nearly as strong as yours."

"Did you say 'nearly'? I don't recall a time when you weren't able to...rise to the occasion."

"Grace, our whole lives have been taken over by sex. We are constantly planning for, engaging in, or recovering from our sexual activities. And now that you've convinced me to drop the rhythm method from our birth control practices, it's gotten totally out of hand."

"You're exaggerating."

"Three times on Monday, four times on Tuesday, and twice already today. Grace, I'm always exhausted, and I've barely had time to crack a book all semester."

"So, you want to go celibate?"

"What? God no. But maybe we could cut back to once a day during the week and twic a day on the weekends?"

"Sounds like quite a sacrifice. After all, my grades haven't slipped this semester. But I guess for you, lover-boy, I can control myself."

Luke breathes a sigh of relief (partly because of this, but mostly because he had resisted the urge to say something snide about Grace's grade levels). He responds, "I, and my college career, thank you."

"Just remember, when you're at M.I.T. and I'm at Arcadia College, it's going to be a long, long dry spell."

"Wait, you're going to Arcadia College?"

"I just sent in my application to start their creative writing program next fall."

"Grace, that's great. We should...celebrate."

"Sounds good to me, if you're up to it."

"What the hell, it's a holiday weekend."

They briefly kiss before Luke drives away.

X X X X X

A short time later, Joan steps into the school corridor from the girl's bathroom where she had been sobbing. Joan dabs her eyes with tissues as she slowly walks along. As she passes the A-V room, a voice calls out...

"Joan!"

"Oh, hi Noah."

"I'm so glad I spotted you. I've got something for you to listen to."

"This isn't a good time, Noah. I'm really drained. Whatever it is, I'll deal with it on Monday."

"But Monday will be too late. It could be important."

"Okay." Joan sighs as she follows Noah into the A-V room. Friedman is there working on a computer.

"Friedman, what are you doing here?"

"Helping Noah with the save-the-school campaign, as per you instructions, Ms President. The response has been great. Every business and resident in the area is flooding the city and county governments with protests."

"Great, keep up the good work. So Noah, why am I here?"

"Step into the sound booth and I'll show you."

Noah and Joan enter the small sound booth. On the table is an antique, hand-cranked grammophone.

"We found this grammophone and a large stack of records in the 1905 time capsule. We cleaned and oiled the machine, and it works great. The records were mostly recordings from the 1905 music department--lots of classical stuff and John Phillip Sousa marches. There were also greetings from the public officals of then to their modern day counterparts."

"Fascinating, but what has this to do with me?"

"The A-V department has been transferring the recordings onto CDs. We're pressed for time because the grammophone goes to the county museum on Friday. I finally came to the last recording--it's for you."

"For me?"

Noah hands her the record, and Joan reads aloud the message on the paper sleeve. "Personal. From the student council president of 1905 to the student council president of 2005."

"I would have just transferred it to CD, but yours was the only one marked personal."

"Can I listen to it now?"

Noah nods and places the record on the machine. He carefully cranks the grammophone, and then starts the record spinning.

"When I leacve, gently lower the needle onto the record."

Joan nods and Noah exits. Joan lowers the needle, there is a hiss and a pop, and then a surprisingly clear voice...

"Hello. The date is Saturday, November eighteenth, 1905. My name is Joe Donnelly, and I'm the student council president for this school year. An hour from now, this machine and all the recordings will be sealed in the time capsule, and won't see the light of day for a hundred years. I'm marking mine personal, because I'm not using it for the purpose it was intended. Instead of a flowery greeting to my fellow council president of a century from now, I'm going to use this time and method to reveal a secret. I've desperately wanted to share this with another person, but can't. If anyone else knew, they would lock me up in an insane asylum. So, my fellow president, here's my secret...I talk to God."

(Joan gasps.)

"I see him and speak with him on a nearly daily basis, and I have been doing so for nearly three years. He gives me assignments. Odd little tasks that seem to make no sense, but I do them anyway because...well, he's God. Whenever I obey, even though it often causes me problems and embarassment, things just work out for the better. I seem to grow in faith and understanding. God says he is training me for an important work ahead. By the way, God is not always a HE, and sometimes God appears as a child. There's this one odd little girl who looks like she dressed herself... Anyway, my time is short and I wanted to share at least one personal experience with you. There are so many strange tales I could tell, but I have an urging to share this one. A few months ago, I had a dream. Not an ordinary one, but one filled with spiritual energy. in the dream, an old rival of mine appeared and told me that God was dismissing me because he was displeased with my work. When I awoke, I had an overwhelming feeling of being abandoned. Sure enough, weeks went by and I no longer saw God. I was crushed. Even though it is tasking to be in God's service, it also gives a comforting assurance to your life. I resigned myself to living a mundane life until I came across a passage in my daily bible reading. Deuteronomy, 4:31--'For the Lord thy God is a merciful God, he will not forsake thee.'

(Joan nods, she was familiar with the passage.)

"I then remembered, God once told me faith is a choice, not a feeling. I had stopped believing because of a feeling. I then chose to ignore the feeling, and believe. Sure enough, God has been back inm y life ever since... I see the record is about to run out of space, so from City High school, also known as Arcadia High, this is Joe Donnelly saying, Trust God and fulfill..."

The record come to a sudden end, but Joan completes the phrase. "Your true nature."

Joan lifts the needle and stops the machine. She carefully puts the record back into the paper sleeve. Clearly, she is stunned.

Joan whispers, "God said the same thing to me. Faith is an act of will, not a feeling. No mathow I feel, I choose to believe God. He does speak to me."

Joan's phone begins playing, 'When The Saints Go Marching In'. The caller I.D. says, GOD.

Joan peevishly asks, "Where have you been?"

"I never went anywhere Joan. You know I'm always with you."

"So that dream?"

"Wasn't from me."

"But the spiritual energy was so strong. If it wasn't from you, then...the devil?"

"The adversary's greatest ability is the telling of convincing lies."

"but I speak to you. I know you. I shouldn't have been fooled."

"Many have been fooled, starting with a lady named Eve."

"Then you're not traing my replacement?"

"Why would I replace you, Joan? You're doing good work."

"Not that good. Ryan is going to destroy Arcadia High, just like he said in that dream."

"Joan, you can't trust that dream."

"But the school?"

"Remember what my friend Joe Donnelly said about the school. Goodbye for now, Joan."

Phone God disconnects, and Joan is already thinking hard as she exits the sound booth with the record under her arm.

Noah asks, "Anything interesting, Joan?"

"Enough that I want to hang onto this record. After all, it was addressed to me."

"I'm not sure..."

"I am. Friedman, time to put your computer skills to use. I need a list of all the area high schools for 1905."

"Are we entering that land of odd requests, again?"

"We are."

"Okay, it worked out well last time." (Friedman begins working the computer keys.) "Let's see, Hogan County dot gov slash school system. Okay, under annual reports, in 1905, there were nine high schools. Three in the county, and six in the city. Huh, that's odd."

"What?"

"There's no listing for Arcadia High."

"What about City High?"

"Let's go back a few years. 1875, No Arcaida or City High. 1850? The same. The furthest it goes back is 1846. That's when the county wide school system was created."

"Check current records for the City of Arcadia. Get a listing of all the properties it owns."

"Okay... City of Arcadia, dot gov slash public properties. Wow, there's thouands of them. Probably a lot of empty lots and old buildings seized for back taxes."

Noah suggests, "Try 640 Main Street. That's the school's address."

"Hmm, there it is. City High school, and in parentheses, Arcadia High."

Noah asks, "This means the county school board just sold a school they don't own?"

Joan says, "How is that possible? I know my Mom gets her paycheck from the county."

"Wait, there's a link here that says: One Dolar Fee. We click it and...we're back at the county school's website. In 1846, the city had just rebuilt City High, and balked at turning it over to the county. So, for an annual fee of one dollar, the county administers the school, but they definitely don't own it!"

Joan chuckles, "It's almost too good to be true. We need to get this information into the hands of the news media."

"I can pull it all together and e-mail it to every local news source. We will need to send it out under someone's name, or it will be dismissed as anonymous spam."

"As student council president, it will have to go out with my name on it."

Noah says, "Joan. are you sure? You're about to publicly humiliate some very important people."

"Que sera sera...I aced my French mid-term. And Friedman, when you send out the e-mails, skip the Herald."

"You're still ticked at Ryan Hunter? What did he ever do to you?"

"For one thing, he just cost me a boyfriend."

X X X X X

Much later that night in Joan's bedroom, she is working on her own computer as an angry Kevin rolls into the room. He holds up his cell phone.

"Joan! What have you done? Ryan is on the phone, and he's furious. You broke a major story to every news outlet in the area, except the Herald. Why?"

"I had my reasons."

"Then you can explain them to Ryan. Here!" Kevin thrusts the phone into Joan's hand.

Joan says into the phone, "Changed my mind."

Joan disconnects and tosses the phone back to an astonished Kevin.

"You're crazy! You really are."

"I thought that was already well established."

An upset Helen enters. "Joan Girardi!"

"Here we go again."

"I just saw the late news. Ryan Hunter was ambushed by a TV news crew on a story about the school board selling Arcadia High when they don't own it. Ryan didn't know anything about it, and was made to look foolish."

"Then things worked out better than I hoped."

"Why Joan? Ryan has been a good friend to this family."

Joan sighs and taps a pen on her desk a few times. "Why do we have to go over this again? For six months I've been warning you people that Ryan is an evil monster of a man. Any good he may have seemed to have done for us is a ruse to throw us off guard. Ryan is my enemy, and I am his."

Kevin says, "I can't deal with this. Maybe you can talk some sense into her, Mom."

Kevin rolls out of the room.

"Joan, I'm really concerned about you. Maybe..."

"Don't suggest therapy. I'm done with that. In half an hour, I turn 18, so you can't make me go."

"Am I suppose to stand by while you rant against a good man?"

"I'm going to do more than that, Mom. It's going to get a lot worse before it gets better. I won't stop until I bring Ryan down."

"I don't know what to say to a statement like that."

"Then consdier this. Ryan and I are on a collison course, and the time is coming when you will have to choose who you believe, and who you will stand with."

"Joan, do you hear yourself?"

"I know what I sound like, and I know the choice you face. Either I'm right, or I'm crazy. I know you want proof, but there is none. By the time there's evidence, one way or the other, it will be too late. I guess you'll have to trust your instincts, Mom. Now if you will excuse me, I'm doing research."

Joan goes back to her computer. After a moment's pause, Helen walks around and views the screen...

"Cemetery records? Joseph Patrick Donnelly. Are you researching the family tree?"

"What? No, Joe Donnelly was the student council president in 1905. His calling Arcadia High, City High, was what led me to the school board's mistake. I was just curious about him."

Helen reads, "Born September eighth, 1888. Died November twenty-third, 1987. The day before you were born. Quite a coincidence."

"Therer are surprisingly few coincidences in life."

"Well here's one for you. Joseph Patrick Donnelly was my Mom's uncle. I met him once at a family reunion, and I knew he buried here in Arcadia."

"He was my great-great uncle? What was he like?"

"I met him ten years before he died. He was an old man, but very active. He was known for saying and doing a lot of odd things. He was always getting involved in other's lives for no sensible reason."

"In other words, just like me."

"I...hadn't thought of that."

"I guess it runs in families."

"What does?"

"That special connection to the universe." (Joan switches off her computer.) "Well, I'm done for the night."

"What did you mean..."

"Don't you have to be up early to bake a turkey?"

"Okay, I can take a hint. Goodnight Joan."

"Goodnight Mom, pleasant dreams."

Helen hesitates a moment but then leaves, closing the door behind her. Joan picks up the 1905 recording and smiles.

"And thank you, Joe of Arcadia."

THE END.


End file.
